


dig into you (like a thorn)

by Anonymous



Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Edgeplay, Exhibitionism, Group Sex, M/M, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:42:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23777059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: All the things that had previously seemed mundane are suddenly uncomfortably exciting, even arousing. Seoho thinks he’s normally pretty good at compartmentalizing. You have to be, in this business, to be able to keep the distinction between which parts of yourself are public and private. But now it’s like a barrier has been broken and he’s sharing close quarters, not just with friends and bandmates, but five cute boys.
Relationships: Everyone/Everyone, Kim Geonhak | Leedo/Kim Youngjo | Ravn, Kim Geonhak | Leedo/Kim Youngjo | Ravn/Yeo Hwanwoong/Son Dongju | Xion/Lee Seoho/Lee Keonhee, Kim Geonhak | Leedo/Son Dongju | Xion, Kim Youngjo | Ravn/Yeo Hwanwoong, Lee Keonhee/Lee Seoho
Comments: 13
Kudos: 221
Collections: Anonymous





	dig into you (like a thorn)

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetaed.

Seoho is the one who hears it first. He’s on his way from the bathroom, back to the living room where some of the members are watching a movie. He passes by Youngjo’s room and hears a loud groan. 

His first reaction is fear and worry because maybe Youngjo’s experiencing another flare-up of his back injury, which is always a possibility with how much they practice, and how frankly terrible they all are at judging their own limits.

Then Youngjo’s voice is followed by Geonhak’s lower tone, saying something that’s illegible through the door, and Seoho relaxes slightly, because if Geonhak is in there with him, at least Youngjo isn’t dealing with it silently. It does hurt a little that he didn’t tell the rest of the members when they could help though.

Youngjo moans again. 

Seoho stares blankly at the door, mind suddenly racing. That definitely didn’t sound like a moan of pain. It’s more like -

Seoho’s brain whites out for a minute and when he comes to, he’s standing in the living room in front of the TV.

“Hyung?” Keonhee asks, sounding worried. “What’s wrong?”

“I think…” Seoho starts, stops, and tries again. “I think Youngjo hyung and Geonhak are getting off in the smaller bedroom right now.”

There’s a moment of silence as everyone processes this, and then sudden movement as they all try to crowd into the hallway at once, shushing each other. The door is still closed. And Youngjo’s loud moans are still coming from behind it, except now they’re joined by Geonhak’s lower register, and the faint sounds of skin on skin.

Seoho can feel his face burning. Next to him, Hwanwoong is also furiously red, while Dongju is comparatively better off with just a small dusting of pink across his cheeks. Seoho can’t look at Keonhee.

“Seems like they’re really going at it,” Hwanwoong says faintly. “Youngjo hyung didn’t mention anything about them -”

“Why would he mention it to you?” Dongju asks, raising his eyebrows at Hwanwoong, who blushes redder if that’s even possible.

“No reason!” Hwanwoong yelps.

“It could be something from before debut,” Dongju says reasonably. “They wouldn’t have been the first ones to do something like that.”

Seoho swallows through a suddenly dry throat, feeling his face burn. He’s too aware of Keonhee’s body heat next to him, and he steps back, trying to make it look natural. Behind him, Hwanwoong and Dongju are whispering about the logistics of hooking up as trainees. It takes Seoho a moment to realize that the sounds from the room have gone quiet.

“Guys!” he hisses urgently. “I think they’re done.”

Two minutes later, they’re all back to their places on the couch, the movie playing, though Seoho certainly isn’t watching it. He feels uncomfortably warm in his clothes, sweat pooling at the base of his spine. He’s still half-hard and grateful for the muted lights because his sweatpants are doing nothing to conceal it. He tries willing it to go down, concentrating on the movie, but Hwanwoong is squished in on the sofa next to him and he’s wearing shorts that ride up his thighs, while Dongju is sitting at their feet surrounded by cushions, head leaning on Seoho’s knee, uncomfortably close to - 

All these things that had previously seemed mundane are suddenly uncomfortably exciting, even arousing. Seoho thinks he’s normally pretty good at compartmentalizing. You have to be, in this business, to be able to keep the distinction between which parts of yourself are public and private. But now it’s like a barrier has been broken and he’s sharing close quarters, not just with friends and bandmates, but five cute boys.

He still can’t make himself look at Keonhee.

A couple of minutes into Seoho not watching the movie, Geonhak walks into the living room. It could just be Seoho’s imagination but there’s a certain spring in his step. A satisfaction in his expression. He’s also shirtless, which is just unfair.

Geonhak casually saunters into the kitchen, taking the milk carton out of the fridge. He chugs it down and a droplet falls out of his mouth to run down his throat, and over his chest before disappearing. Seoho hasn’t felt this thirsty after a 10-hour practice session. He’d feel bad, but the rest are also blatantly staring. Hwanwoong is the reddest he’s ever seen him. Dongju surreptitiously moves a plushie so it’s covering his crotch. Keonhee clears his throat uncomfortably.

Geonhak looks at them and seems to freeze under all the attention. “What?” he asks. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Hwanwoong opens his mouth but Dongju elbows him in the shin, and he closes it with a yelp. There’s an uncomfortably long silence.

“Whatever,” Geonhak rolls his eyes, throwing the milk carton in the trash. “You’re all so weird sometimes, I swear.”

  
  


*

  
  


That night, Seoho wakes up abruptly. He’s not sure what woke him, listening carefully in the darkness, but he can only hear Geonhak’s snoring over the distant sound of the city. He shuts his eyes to get back to sleep when he hears it again.

A moan, stifled, like someone is covering his mouth, trying not to be overheard. It’s familiar. 

Keonhee’s bunk is right under his and as he hears another muffled moan, Seoho squeezes his eyes shut, trying to will the image away.

The idea of Keonhee’s body twisted in the sheets, one hand covering his mouth, the other wrapped around himself, stroking quickly so he can get off without waking anyone up.

But Seoho is up. And another part of his anatomy is up too. He hates himself for it a little, hates Keonhee too, hates the way he can tell Keonhee’s getting desperate, hates that he wants to hear him without Keonhee trying to be quiet. 

Keonhee comes with a bitten off groan and then it’s silent, save for the sound of Seoho’s heartbeat in his ears. He makes himself lie still for almost an hour before he carefully climbs down the bunk bed ladder, picking his way among dropped clothes and makeup to the bathroom.

He jerks off into the toilet bowl, thinking about Youngjo’s high-pitched moans, the milk droplet trailing across Geonhak’s throat and Keonhee’s bitten off noises. He hates himself for it, just a little.

  
  


*

  
  


The thing is, Youngjo and Geonhak escalate. They disappear together whenever they’ve got a few hours off and return with self-satisfied expressions that leave no doubts at to what they’ve been doing. Youngjo licks his lips excessively. Geonhak takes every opportunity to take off his shirt.

Hwanwoong once almost walks in on them and has to get a double dose of BB cream to cover up his blush. Everyone takes to loudly announcing their presence before walking into rooms with shut doors. They don’t talk about it and neither Youngjo nor Geonhak explain, maintaining a fantastic poker face whenever someone drops hints about it.

Seoho can’t stop thinking about it. He’s also taken to waking up early, from dreams that leave him hard and waddling into the bathroom clumsily to jerk off, thinking about the way Hwanwoong moans in his sleep or the size of Keonhee’s mouth. He hasn’t been able to look any of the members in the eye for weeks. It’s fine when they’re in professional settings, like the practice room, but as soon as they relax for the day, Seoho’s mind is off in imagined scenarios.

He’s carefully cultivated a persona of someone who doesn’t like skinship, but he’s starting to flinch away from innocent touches. Keonhee is beginning to send hurt looks his way and Seoho has no way of explaining to him that it’s not his fault, it’s just that Seoho is apparently possessed by a lust demon now just because two of his members are getting off on the regular.

  
  


*

  
  


Something’s got to give.

  
  


*

  
  


It’s a normal evening. Geonhak and Youngjo disappear early and for once Seoho is too distracted to wonder what they’re doing because his super-secret stash of candy is missing and no one will fess up to eating it. He’s already ruled out Hwanwoong because Hwanwoong will fold when you pressure him. He’s also pretty sure Dongju isn’t responsible because if Dongju steals your candy he tells you straight up that he did. This leaves him with Youngjo, Geonhak, and Keonhee. Geonhak wouldn’t have done it because candy is too sweet for him, and it was unlikely Youngjo did, with how Geonhak has been watching his diet like a hawk. This leaves Lee Keonhee, who is now finally almost meeting his eyes properly if only to argue his innocence.

“I’m going to ask Youngjo hyung and Geonhak right now, and when they say they didn’t do it, which they will, you’re going to be sorry,” Seoho threatens, heading towards the bedrooms.

“You don’t have any proof, hyung!” Keonhee keeps trying to defend himself but also getting into Seoho’s way so he can’t go any further, which is a sure sign that he’s guilty as hell. Finally, Seoho makes it to the hallway leading up to the bedrooms, pushing Keonhee in front of him because he refuses to step aside. 

It’s dark because Seoho forgot to turn on the lights, but the door to Youngjo’s room is open, light spilling into the hallway. Geonhak’s voice is a low rumble, the words indistinguishable if there are any, but the tone is -

Seoho hasn’t ever heard him sound like that, soft whimpers and sharp curses, overlaid over the unmistakable sound of skin on skin contact and Youngjo’s higher tone. There’s no doubt about what they’re doing in there. 

Keonhee freezes in front of the door and Seoho’s so distracted he can barely stop himself from running into him. Unluckily, Hwanwoong comes running from behind him, chased by Dongju over some squabble and he flies right into Seoho’s back, causing him to lurch forward, into Keonhee, and straight through the door in a groaning heap on the bedroom floor.

Youngjo is sitting down on the bed, Geonhak spread out on his lap. They’re both shirtless and Geonhak’s sweatpants are pushed almost all the way down. Above Seoho, Hwanwoong makes a strange squeaking noise where he’s still pushing both him and Keonhee into the carpet.

“Oh, hello,” Youngjo says, surprisingly calm and steady for someone who’s got his hand wrapped around Geonhak’s dick, stroking it slowly enough that Seoho would have found it uncomfortable. “Did you need something?”

Geonhak opens his eyes at his voice and they’re glassy, pupils blown entirely wide. He groans, the sound so deep that Seoho feels it right in his bones before he tucks his face into Youngjo’s neck, flush high on his cheeks. Youngjo brings the hand he’s got around Geonhak’s waist up to brush through his hair briefly before putting it back down to steady him, fingers flicking at a nipple on the way down. It looks practiced, Seoho realizes. It looks like it’s a routine for them, something they’ve done before and Seoho is only seeing it for the first time now, while Hwanwoong is scrambling to get off him, Keonhee mute and frozen, pinned under Seoho.

“So this is where you’d disappeared to,” says Dongju from the doorway. He steps gingerly around the heap of people on the floor, the blanket he’s wearing like a cape dragging on the floor. “Are you putting on a show?”

There’s a rickety old armchair across the bed that Youngjo keeps his clothes on. Dongju sweeps them off in a casual gesture and folds down into the seat, tucking his legs underneath him. The only sign that he’s in any way affected by what he’s seeing is the red flush on his cheeks. 

“You can watch if you’d like,” Youngjo says, shrugging. “Geonhak doesn’t mind. Do you?”

Geonhak doesn’t reply from where he’s still got his face hidden away in Youngjo’s collarbone, but his hips start moving in small aborted thrusts. Youngjo stops stroking him entirely, pulling his hand away and the sound Geonhak makes is almost a sob. 

Without the distraction of Geonhak’s face, Seoho can’t stop looking at his cock, flushed red and glistening with precome, standing out from a thatch of dark hair. It’s not bigger than Seoho’s but it’s thick enough that even Youngjo’s big hand has a hard time wrapping fully around it. Youngjo makes a soothing noise under his breath and reaches down to roll Geonhak’s balls in his palm. Geonhak’s whole body shakes and Seoho can see Youngjo’s arm straining where it’s got him pinned across the waist. Youngjo waits for a moment and then puts his hand back on Geonhak’s cock, teasing over the head with a fluttering touch that makes Seoho ache in sympathy.

Seoho is uncomfortably aware of both his own arousal and Keonhee’s body heat against his front. They’re still where they’ve fallen, Seoho pinning Keonhee down, his legs bracketing his thigh where Keonhee is lying on his side. He’s aware of Hwanwoong behind him, breathing too heavy to be unaffected by what he’s seeing.

“Does he like it like that?” Hwanwoong asks as if reading Seoho’s mind. “So slowly?”

Youngjo makes an affirmative noise. “As slow as possible,” he says, giving Geonhak another firm stroke that leaves his body trembling, abs flexing. “I once kept him like this for an hour before letting him come. We had more time back then. We rarely get to do it now.”

Geonhak starts making sounds, increasingly louder, the spaces between Youngjo’s touches becoming fewer. Youngjo’s got this look on his face, the one he uses on fans when he knows he’s about to send them in a frenzy. He twists around to speak into Geonhak’s ear.

“Are you desperate already?” he says, voice so achingly sweet, almost cutesy. “Everyone is watching you, you know. Won’t you ask them nicely if they want to see you come?”

Geonhak starts getting louder and Youngjo nudges his face just enough so Seoho can see more than his profile. His mouth is bitten red and cracked, his eyes squeezed shut, sweat beading at his hairline. And his noises - 

He’s begging, Seoho realizes, an endless litany of, “Please, please, please…” and it brings a gentle smile to Youngjo’s face that makes something in Seoho’s chest hurt. 

“Let him have it, hyung,” Dongju says, and his voice is incredibly steady for how flushed his face is, his eyes so dark they almost seem to suck the light in. “He’s so desperate for it.”

The smile on Youngjo’s face is positively gleeful. The sound of Dongju’s voice seems to have ramped up Geonhak’s desperation and he’s even louder now, begging and twisting in Youngjo’s arms, his hands twisted white-knuckled in the sheets. 

“Do you hear that?” Youngjo says to him, finally stroking faster, making Geonhak sob out loud. “Dongju is so nice to you, looking out for you like this. You better do something nice for him later.”

And then he releases the arm around Geohak’s waist, stroking him quickly and Geonhak folds in on himself, coming with a punched out sound, stripping his impressive abs with come. 

Seoho breathes out, slow and shaky, as Geonhak collapses back in Youngjo’s arms. Youngjo chuckles softly, wiping his hand on Geonhak’s sweatpants and pressing a surprisingly sweet kiss to his sweaty temple. His eyes sweep across the room, stopping at Dongju in the armchair.

“You’re taking this surprisingly well,” Youngjo says to him. “I thought you’d be the shyest since you’re the youngest.”

Dongju shrugs. “While you were all under dating bans, I was living my life like a normal person. I was very popular with girls in my high school,” he says, smirking slightly. “I’ve never done it with a boy before, though. I asked Yonghoon hyung to fill me in when you started playing your little game.”

Youngjo frowns. “I can’t believe you went to Yonghoon hyung instead of me,” he says, sounding genuinely upset. “He’s going to hold this over my head for years.”

“Wait, Yonghoon hyung does guys?” Seoho blurts out, then winces as it makes Keonhee flinch under him, pressing their bodies closer together.

Youngjo and Dongju have identical long-suffering expressions on their faces. “Many and often, and in as many positions as possible,” the chorus, rolling their eyes at each other.

There’s a brief moment of silence as everyone seems to process the position they’re in. It would be the ideal time for Seoho to get off of Keonhee, apologize and walk out of the room. He doesn’t. Instead, he takes some of his weight off his aching hands and lets himself drop down. Keonhee makes a noise, loud and sharp and Youngjo’s eyes linger on them for a moment before he grins, looking past them.

“Well, this one is going to be useless for a while,” Youngjo says, indicating Geonhak in his arms. His body is still lax, eyes shut and breathing steadily against Youngjo’s chest. “I’m not tired yet and I’m feeling pretty altruistic. Why don’t I help you with your little problem, Woongie?”

Seoho turns around, gaze dropping. And the thing is, he’s seen Hwanwoong’s cock before, in rushed showers and dressing room glimpses. He knows Hwanwoong is big. Everyone knows he’s big. It’s an inside joke almost, that Hwanwoong is small everywhere except where it counts. Still, he’s not prepared for the sight of what’s tenting the front of Hwanwoong’s sweatpants.

Hwanwoong is kneeling, eyes wide, mouth worrying his bottom lip and his sweatpants seem fit to burst. He makes a soft sound at Youngjo’s voice then launches a little unsteadily to his feet, to cross the room to stand next to him.

Youngjo watches him with a soft expression, smile widening as he approaches. He reaches out to run his hand gently across Hwanwoong’s flank and Seoho breathes in a shocked gasp at how much of it he can cover just with his palm.

“You’re wearing my shirt so you can keep it on,” Youngjo says, trailing his hand to the hem of the too-big graphic T-shirt Hwanwoong is wearing and slipping underneath. “But take these off.”

He snaps the waist of Hwanwoong’s sweatpants, shocking a noise out of him. A moment later, Hwanwoong is stepping out of his pants and Seoho feels his eyes widen. The cloth outline hadn’t done it justice - Hwanwoong’s cock is big and thick, jutting straight up to his stomach, flushed red. It’s the first time that evening that Youngjo looks surprised, watching Hwanwoong with wide dark eyes.

“Fuck, baby,” he says and reaches out for Hwanwoong’s hand to pull him closer. “I don’t think that’ll fit in my mouth.”

But he seems eager to make an effort, closing his lips around the tip and sucking gently. Hwanwoong’s expression slackens, his mouth dropping open as he moans softly, reaching out to steady himself with a hand on Youngjo’s shoulder.

Roused by the activity, Geonhak moves in Youngjo’s arms. He watches Youngjo for a moment, then locks gazes with Hwanwoong. Seoho can’t see his expression, but he leans forward, pressing a kiss to Hwanwoong’s shaft where Youngjo’s lips are wrapped around it, shocking a noise out of both of them before he pulls away and launches unsteadily onto his feet.

He pauses for a moment only to pull down his pants, leaving them on the floor and standing in the middle of the bedroom naked. Seoho isn’t the only one that gasps when he sees him, all smooth, toned muscles and a little sway in his step as he walks over to where Dongju is sitting.

Dongju is quiet, but he looks wrecked, dark-eyed and flushed, mouth dropping open when Geonhak kneels quietly before him. The look on Geonhak’s face is familiar, all genuine fondness with an undercurrent of exasperation, but there’s something else to it now.

“Dongju,” Geonhak says softly, his voice lower and hoarser than usual, “can I touch you?”

“Fuck,” Dongju says and Seoho shivers at the way his soft pink lips wrap around the curse. “Yes.”

Geonhak’s hands shake a little as he reaches out for the hem of Dongju’s pajama pants, and Dongju braces on the armchair arms so Geonhak can peel the material over his narrow hips, leaving him bare from the waist down. 

Dongju lets his knees fall open, making space for Geonhak between them. Geonhak presses a kiss to his knee, to where he’s got a scar from falling down as a child, and another kiss higher, on his inner thigh, a trail of kisses up to Dongju’s slim pink cock, flushed and pretty as the rest of him. The armchair is too narrow though and Geonhak lets out a low rumble of discontent, reaching out under Dongju’s ass to haul him up and to the edge of the seat, guiding one of his legs over his shoulder as an afterthought, opening him up to his mouth.

Dongju gasps at being manhandled, growing harder, pre-come gathering at his tip, but Geonhak ignores it in favor of pressing more open-mouthed kisses to his thigh, stopping to suck in a bruise on the upper part where the skin is softest, making Dongju whine. 

“This is for all the times you bit me,” Geonhak says, smiling against Dongju’s skin, kissing softly under the bruise.

“Hyung,” Dongju hisses, having evidently had enough teasing. “Just do it properly if you’re going to do it.”

He pulls him closer, pressing his heel to his back, and threads his fingers into his hair, guiding his head to his cock firmly, Geonhak laughing all the while. He stops laughing when faced with Dongju’s cock though, leaning in, to lap at the slit and the pre-come gathered there. And then he takes Dongju into his mouth, all the way down at once. The sound Dongju makes is a genuine sob as he makes a small abortive thrust, then slams himself back into the chair in an impressive show of control that Seoho definitely didn’t have at his age.

Geonhak pulls back to smile up at him. “It’s okay,” he says, voice pitched so low that it’s almost indecipherable. “You can fuck my mouth.”

“He doesn’t have a gag reflex,” Youngjo pipes up from the bed. He’s got Hwanwoong on his back, propped up on a couple of pillows, Hwanwoong’s eyes hazy with pleasure, voice reduced to desperate whimpers. “It’s pretty great.”

“Overachiever,” Seoho says without thinking and Geonhak turns around to grin at him, winking, before turning his attention back to Dongju.

Underneath Seoho, Keonhee moves, only slightly, before stilling. Seoho looks down between them. He realizes two things in quick succession. Keonhee is hard and the movement was him desperate for any kind of friction. And Seoho’s arms are really tired from where they’ve been holding him up all this time.

Keonhee makes a tiny sound under his breath and it makes Seoho look at his face. Their eyes meet, the tension that’s been building between them for days sizzling and building into a wildfire. Eyes firmly on Keonhee’s, Seoho lets himself drop.

It’s not perfect. Their crotches don’t magically align, and Seoho lands mostly on Keonhee’s thigh, but it’s delicious friction and Seoho moans, sparks flying at the edges of his vision. Keonhee makes a stifled sound underneath him, biting his lip to contain the noise and it’s familiar. The thing is, Seoho knows this, the shape of Keonhee’s body underneath him, the shape of his cock in his sweatpants, the way it’ll fit in his hand. They were a thing, him and Keonhee, for a few months before they debuted, something unnamed, hidden in supply closets that smelled of bleach, in shadowed corners of the practice rooms after dark. 

They’d stopped after debut, of course. It had felt too risky then. Now, with the wet sound of Youngjo’s mouth on Hwanwoong’s cock, with Dongju’s low pitched whimpers, it feels like something different. Seoho braces himself on his knees, holding Keonhee’s gaze.

“I want to kiss you,” he says and his voice comes out shaky, but it’s worth it for the shy smile painted across Keonhee’s lips, for the way he lifts himself on his elbows, presenting his mouth. Seoho leans in and kisses him. Keonhee tastes like candy.

“You ass, you ate all of it,” he whispers against his lips but Keonhee just laughs and licks into his mouth. This part is new, the way Keonhee kisses, intense and tender all at once, sucking on Seoho’s tongue and biting gently at his bottom lip. They’d shared a couple rushed handjobs in the dark but Seoho never knew how to ask for this - Keonhee’s soft mouth and his fingers in his hair.

Seoho pushes his hand under Keonhee’s shirt, skimming his fingers over his lean stomach and up until he finds a nipple and flicks it with the edge of his nail. Keonhee breaks the kiss with a loud whimper, his hand coming up immediately to cover his mouth. Anticipating it, Seoho grabs his wrist halfway, pressing it firmly back on the ground, holding it there until Keonhee nods, barely perceptible. Seoho moves his hand away but Keonhee’s stays on the ground. He lets Seoho yank his shirt over his head and over his arms so it’s tangled around his wrists, effectively trapping them. 

Seoho stares for a moment at the miles of pale skin on display, feeling greedy. He’s only ever gotten to map them with his fingertips and never seen them in the light like this, and he can’t stop looking. Keonhee’s skin is smooth and unmarked, built less powerfully than Geonhak, but lovely nonetheless. 

“Hyung, do something,” Keonhee says, impatience coloring his tone, and it makes Seoho laugh, startling him out of his contemplation. 

“Be patient,” he says, adjusting his position slightly. Right as Keonhee is opening his mouth to whine more, Seoho grinds down and bends to latch his mouth onto his nipple. Keonhee’s scream is almost a perfect G5 note. Seoho envies his range.

“Makes sense that he’s loud here too,” Dongju comments, sounding breathless and Seoho grins, brings his hand up to flick at Keonhee’s other nipple until they’re both puffed up and red, and Keonhee is twisting under his hands, pleading incoherently, loud enough that the neighbors are definitely going to complain. Only then does he reach down to pull down Keonhee’s pajama pants and wrap his palm around him.

The angle is still a little strange but Keonhee’s cock feels good in his hand. The slide is smooth and perfect because Keonhee is always wetter than what Seoho is used to, leaking pre-come steadily as soon as he gets hard. Seoho doesn’t bother with teasing, focusing instead on all the little tricks he’s learned to get Keonhee off, fast like their vocal lessons teacher will be walking in any second.

Keonhee comes with a loud groan, his arms giving in, his upper body hitting the carpet with a soft thump but Seoho doesn’t have the capacity to care, scrambling to pull down his own sweatpants. He’s so hard it hurts, feels like he’s been hard for hours. The first touch of his fingers on his cock feels like heaven and he sets a brutal pace, just aiming to get off quickly.

“Hyung,” Keonhee says, insistent, “hyung, get up here.” 

Seoho stares at him uncomprehendingly for a moment, fighting for coherence as Keonhee tugs on his pants, urging him closer. 

“My mouth, hyung,” Keonhee says impatiently. “Come on my mouth.”

Seoho may be desperate but the image is too hard to ignore, so he shuffles up Keonhee’s body, a little awkwardly because his pants are only halfway undone. When he’s close enough, Keonhee leans in to suck the head of his cock in his mouth, suckling softly and that’s it, Seoho has just enough time to pull back and strip Keonhee’s pretty mouth with his come.

He’s a little dazed with it, but Keonhee’s arms are steady around him, supporting him, and Seoho is drawn back to looking at his lips, the way his tongue sweeps out to lick a bit of come from the edge of his mouth. He leans back in, kissing Keonhee and tasting himself on his mouth and the feeling of it draws another moan from his throat, his cock giving a furtive twitch even when it’s much too sensitive to get hard again.

“Pretty,” Youngjo says, and Seoho twists to look at him, flushing when he finds both him and Hwanwoong looking. Youngjo is plastered to Hwanwoong’s side, somehow still entirely clothed while Hwanwoong only has his T-shirt on, though it now has a pretty distinctive wet spot at the front. 

“It’s not fair,” Dongju says from where he’s still sprawled out on the armchair. Geonhak is still on his knees but now his head is pillowed on Dongju’s thigh, blissed-out expression on his face as Dongju runs his fingers through his hair. “Seoho hyung and Keonhee hyung have had practice.”

Youngjo wolf-whistles. Keonhee’s eyes narrow as he twists around to stare at Dongju. “How do you even know about that?” he asks, a whine in his voice.

“Dongmyeong knows everything,” Dongju shrugs. “And he tells me everything.”

Keonhee curses his breath, and Seoho runs a soothing hand over his flank without thinking. He gets rewarded with a smile.

“Oh, Youngjo hyung, I’m sorry,” Hwanwoong breaks into the conversation, sounding worried. “I didn’t get to do anything for you. Are you still hard?”

“Ah,” Youngjo says and it’s the first time that Seoho’s seen a blush on his face. Geonhak snorts from his position at Dongju’s feet.

“Youngjo hyung gets off on the servicing,” he says, “he probably came into his pants with barely a touch after all that.”

“Guilty as charged,” Youngjo says, smiling, as he opens his legs to reveal a big wet spot on the front of his sweatpants. 

“Oh,” Hwanwoong says, and the look he gives Youngjo makes Seoho think he might be ready to go again soon. 

There’s an awkward moment of silence as they all contemplate each other, in various states of come stained undress.

“So,” Seoho finally says, “did you all want to order fried chicken or no?”

**Author's Note:**

> Anon because I'm shy. Tell me what you think anyway?


End file.
